


In Regards to Trust: Valediction

by phisen



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Comfort/Angst, Decisions, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-19 01:37:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9411638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phisen/pseuds/phisen
Summary: Yuuri and Victor's worst nightmares face off in this story about trust and the art of letting go.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is somewhat of a follow-up to the story New beginnings. To prime yourself for this one, I'd suggest you read that one first. Thanks :)

"Yuuri?" Victor came though the front door of the flat.

"Hi, Victor, welcome home! How was practice?" Yuuri's voice came from further in.

"It was fine," Victor said loudly as the took off his coat. "The short program is almost done, just have to go through it a couple of more times. I've contacted the head of the orchestra at the Mariinsky too, so we'll see if I have to tweak it once I have the music."

Victor walked towards the kitchen, stroking Makkachin's head as the poodle scampered around his legs. He felt parched. He got a bottle of water from the fridge and greedily drank it. He felt Yuuri's arms around his torso.

"Wow, you really are Japanese! Sneaking around like a ninja."

Yuuri scoffed in response.

He turned around, placed the bottle on the countertop and returned the embrace. He kissed Yuuri on the head, nuzzling his hair. _I hate it when we're not together._

"So!" Yuuri's voice made him leave his train of thought. "Dinner, eating in or out?"

Victor pondered for a second.

"In, I think. You don't mind?"

"No, absolutely not. Want me to cook?"

"Would you? Wow, amazing! Yuuri's cooking tonight!"

Victor tilted Yuuri's face upwards and gave him a deep kiss. One that made him weak at the knees. One that made Yuuri moan against his mouth.

"Payment enough, I hope?" Victor smiled. Yuuri was the better cook, by far. He really needed to encourage him in any way possible.

Yuuri patted Victor on the chest, laughing a bubbly laugh.

_I love you, I love you, I love you. This is what keeps me going. I want this to be forever._

Victor ran his fingers though Yuuri's hair. It was slightly longer now, he noticed. It suited him. He playfully pulled one of the thicker strands repeatedly.

"And you, young man? Practice tomorrow?"

"Definitely. Combination training, if I'm allowed to have a say."

"I had something else in mind. Maybe you can convince me?" Victor winked as he walked out of the kitchen. "I'm taking a shower!"

* * *

Yuuri opened the fridge. _What to make, what to make... Vegetable pasta, maybe?_

He'd been in St Petersburg for almost a month. Victor had been coaching him for almost three weeks. The week he stayed off the rink had been pure bliss, he reluctantly admitted to himself. _And I'm supposed to be a professional figure skater..._

He remembered the little things, like being presented with a spare set of keys. Seeing an Instagram post with a photo of their two toothbrushes in his feed, the caption had been heartbreakingly sweet. 'Everything looks better in pairs'. Walking with Victor around town so that he would find his way on his own. Having a sightseeing of his new home rink. He felt warm inside, thinking back.

Yuuri shredded some carrots and fennel, filled a pot with water and placed it on the stove. His thoughts drifted off, thinking about the theme for his upcoming season. Trust. Victor had seemed enthusiastic when he told him about it. Called it important.

Victor had been very thorough, questioning Yuuri about what he thought about the word. What his perception of trust was. How he could translate Yuuri's thoughts into movements. Yuuri loved seeing Victor work. The choreography he'd shown him sparked the same feeling he'd felt inside when he saw the Eros routine. _How could I possibly pull this off?_

It hadn't been as tough getting into the mindset, but the movements linked together were more intricate and demanding. _Victor trusts me. He knows I can pull this off. Therefore, I must show him that I have trust in him, too._

The boiling water brought Yuuri back, and he quickly put the vegetables in.

He smelled Victor before he saw him.

* * *

"This is so good!" Victor beamed at Yuuri. "I really appreciate this." Victor reached for Yuuri's hand, giving it a squeeze. The smile Yuuri gave him made him weak.

After dinner, they lazily lounged in the sofa. Yuuri had almost immediately drifted off to sleep, on top of Victor and between his legs. Yuuri's breathing was slow. Deep. Calming. Victor traced the edge of Yuuri's shoulderblade with his fingers through Yuuri's shirt as carefully as he could.

In order to keep himself occupied, Victor played with his phone. He took a photo of their interlaced right hands.

**_v-nikiforov_ **

_**v-nikiforov** With my sleeping beauty~!_

_posted 0 minutes ago_

He checked the time. 23:13. _Probably time for bed soon_. Victor was supposed to meet with Yakov in the morning in order to practice. He usually scheduled his sessions early in order to let Yuuri sleep. Yuuri wasn't really a morning person, so his sessions started after lunch most of the time.

Victor put his phone on the floor. _No, we really need to get to bed._ In order to wake Yuuri in a gentle fashion, he trailed his fingers along Yuuris spine repeatedly. Trying his best to count the vertebras. Yuuri shifted after a while, and slowly inhaled for something that felt like forever. Yuuri shuddered under his touch.

"Yuuri..." Victor's voice were barely a whisper. "Ticklish?"

"No," Yuuri yawned. "Just goosebumps."

"We really should go to bed."

"Just a moment longer, please." Yuuri's voice grew more silent with every word.

"You're going to fall asleep again." _I love when you do that. You're hopeless._

They remained still and quiet in each other's arms for a while. Victor could tell by Yuuri's breathing that he resided in the borderlands between being awake and asleep.

"Whatever," Victor whispered as he reached for his phone to set the alarm.

* * *

_To: Yuu~ri!_

_I set your alarm, you can thank me later. Which I hope you'll do... See you at the rink! xxx_

Victor put his phone in his puffer and reached for his water bottle. He had a joint training today. Yakov was barking instructions at the far end of the rink, his voice booming.

"Vitya! You're up! From the second sit spin!"

"No, from the 4-3 combo," Victor hollered back. He unzipped his puffer and threw it across the side board of the rink.

"Don't mouth back! You do what I tell you to or..."

"Or else, what?" Victor tried his best to sound extremely flippant as he passed by, preparing a quad lutz-triple toe loop combination. He positioned himself on the right backward outside edge of the skate, prepared his left arm and leg for the jump and... flawless clockwise rotation.

"Yakov! Watch!"

Victor decided to add some flair to his toe loop by approaching it differently, rotating counter-clockwise in the air. Just for the heck of it. It became a double, but the expression on Yakov's face was enough. _Mission accomplished._ He finished with a death drop and did some sit spin variations, just for good measure, before he finished with an end pose.

"Vitya!" Yakov looked... teary eyed. And mad.

"Great, huh?" Victor stopped in front of his coach as brusquely as he could, sporting a sly smile. He made sure that his skates created a huge, powdery cloud of ice. _Shit, that was tough. My knees are killing me._

"Vitya, I forbid you to play around like that! It's not like you can use it in your program anyway! You need to be careful, you're no teenager anymore."

Victor put one finger to his lips and winked.

"All about surprising the audience, Yakov." _But I'm at my limit. This magician's hat is getting empty._

Yakov gave Victor a supportive pat on the back, and told him to cool down. He was done for the day.

* * *

"See you later, Makkachin!"

Yuuri grabbed his backpack before exiting, making sure that he locked the door. It was quite a luxury to live so close to the rink, it was within walking distance. He could only assume that Victor had taken it into consideration when he got the place.

He exited the lift, put his earphones in and started his playlist. _If I keep a higher pace, I'll be there in fifteen._ Yuuri started with a light jog and gradually upped his speed as he headed for the rink. _Definitely a great warmup._

The rink started to loom in the distance. Yuuri ran up the stairs and looked at his phone. 17 minutes.

He went inside and changed clothes. As he laced up his skates, a gang of young girls squealed as they exited the rink, heading for the outside. He couldn't understand them, but he nodded politely as they passed. He suddenly caught them saying "Vitya" in the same squealing tone.

_He really has this effect on everyone. The wonderful, approachable Vitya. My super nova._

Yuuri entered where the girls had exited, and saw Victor on the ice. _Go figure they squealed. I feel like going crazy too when I see him._

Victor had been adamant since the very beginning that his and Yuuri's training sessions would be separated without any kind of overlapping. He pointed out that Yuuri needed to skate without disturbances, that it was important for him to focus and not be affected by others at this stage. Not until he knew his choreography by heart. Yuuri complied. And why wouldn't he, he trusted Victor.

Yuuri slowly walked to the entrance of the rink, the characteristic sound of the skate guards rattled with every step.

He was breathless. Victor still hadn't gotten his music from the Mariinsky, but seeing him skate without it was even more spellbinding. Victor skated with a slightly pained expression, his movements were like poetry. Out of an Ina Bauer with an outlandish layback, he performed a scratch spin. As the momentum waned, it became slow. Seductive. Perfectly centered. Victor continued to stretch out his arms, almost in a beckoning way, before retracting them as he moved into a backward crossover. It was like he spoke to an audience that wasn't there.

As Victor caressed his face, his lower lip getting caught by the movement of his fingers, Yuuri understood the story Victor was trying to tell. He felt cold inside. It was like he'd witnessed something that was forbidden, something that wasn't meant for him.

_It's like he's... saying goodbye?_

Yuuri stifled a sob. He didn't understand, but at the same time, it all made perfect sense. The separated training sessions, the focus on Yuuri's season, the dodged conversations about Victor's routines. It all made perfect sense, and Yuuri felt mortified. Cheated. Stupid.

He turned around and walked to the locker room. He felt dizzy. He wanted to puke. He tried his best to undo his skates, but ended up pulling them off by force. Leaving them on the floor, he darted for the bathroom. Covering his mouth with both hands. _I'm going to throw up, I'm going to throw up! I can't breathe!_

As soon as he'd slammed the door shut, he passed out.

* * *

Victor stood on the ice. Waiting.

"Tired little piggy. I know I set your alarm."

He reached for his phone. Nothing, no texts or missed calls. He opened his call log to find Yuuri's number and pressed it. No answer.

Victor skated to the exit and got off the ice. _Might as well get some coffee._ _He's probably on his way._

Walking through the locker room, he felt more at ease. He noticed Yuuri's backpack and skates on the floor. _So he is here._

He sat down on the bench. He decided to wait for him. When maybe ten minutes had passed, Victor found it strange that Yuuri still was a no-show. He picked up his phone again and called Yuuri.

_That's strange... I think I hear his phone?_

As Victor stood up, wondering why he heard Yuuri's phone with that silly ring signal, he saw Yuuri's shoes on the floor. His heart started to beat faster. _Why would he go anywhere without something on his feet?_

Victor got to Yuuri's voicemail. He hung up and re-dialled. Yuuri's phone rang again. Victor followed the sound, getting more and more worked up. _What the hell is this? Where is he?_

Victor walked past the bathroom two times before he realised that the sound was coming from within.

"Yuuri? Yuuri! Yuuri, are you in there? Are you okay?"

No answer. Victor's heart was beating its way out of his chest. Victor pushed down on the handle and noticed that the door wasn't locked.

"Yuuri, I'm opening the door! I'm coming in, okay?"

Victor buckled at the knees when he saw him. Face down on the floor in a contorted way. A small smear of blood on the basin.

"Yuuri! What the hell, Yuuri! Someone, help!" He filled his lungs to their absolute maximum, screaming as fear took over. "POMOGITE MNE!"


	2. Chapter 2

"Mr. Nikiforov, do not move him! Let go, now!"

"Back off, give him room! Hey!"

"Aren't you listening, do not move him! He might've hurt his neck!"

"Excuse us, let us through! Sir, move. Move? Can somebody get him to move?"

* * *

The paramedics were quick to arrive, thanks to the staff who had heard Victor's desperate cries.

As the medical staff took Yuuri's vitals, Victor was taken by the arm. Removed from Yuuri's side. He'd struggled initially, he wanted to see Yuuri's face.

Standing some paces away, he all of a sudden couldn't make himself look in that direction. He was shaking. A deafening rush of adrenaline coursed through him, making everthing sound like he was under water. And yes, it felt as if he was drowning. Strange, that. He'd seen a lot of accidents during his career, even had some of his own. Some had been serious too but all of them, his own or others', had been easy to shake off. They'd been like dipping your feet in a very shallow pool. With Yuuri, that was not the case. It dragged him down into an abyss, so that seeing the light of the surface became impossible.

Victor went outside, still wearing his skates. It felt as if the ground was shaking, though it was his knees. He sat down, putting his head between his legs. He felt sick. He couldn't understand why Yuuri was on the floor of that bathroom.

_I shouldn't have come here early. I should have gone with him. What the hell am I doing? What the hell am I doing to him?_

In that very moment, Victor blamed himself. Hated himself. And he was scared. Scared to lose what had brought him back to life.

"Victor?" One of the staff members stood at the top of the stairs. She cleared her throat a little. "He's awake now, why don't you come inside?"

"I'll be there. Just a moment." He couldn't make himself to look at up her. When he heard the door close, somewhere behind him, his defences crumbled. Victor Nikiforov wept.

* * *

Victor was hesitant to come back inside. But he wanted to. He wanted to see him. Make sure that he was okay. He needed to come up for air.

Victor was stopped before he could enter the locker room. The paramedics asked him if he'd be comfortable interpreting, not that they couldn't understand English, but just to make sure that nothing was lost in translation. Victor nodded.

Yuuri was on the floor with a neck brace. They had covered him with a bright orange blanket after they had moved with with the help of a stretcher, and had apparently put surgical tape on the gash he had on his forehead. He had a some caked blood in his hairline.

As soon as Victor saw him, he wanted to leave. He couldn't stand seeing him. Not like that. At the same time, he wanted to feel him. Make it better. He felt a terrible tremble in his throat as he went up to Yuuri. He took a deep breath before he sat down on the floor.

"Yuuri?" His voice sounded stronger than he'd imagined it would.

Those dark brown eyes looked at him. Started to tear up. Not before long, they overflowed.

Victor wiped Yuuri's face softly with his hands. The tears kept on coming, but he was quick to catch them. The trembling inside Victor was building up.

"Are you in pain?"

Yuuri sobbed as he lay on the floor, trying to turn his head away but was restricted by the neckbrace. He tried to cover his face with his elbow, whimpering as he did. The display made Victor feel like crying too.

_He blames me! I can't take this, what have I done? What did I do?_

The paramedics started to ask Yuuri questions with the help of Victor. Yes, he knew his name. Yes, he knew what day it was. Yes, he knew where he was born. No, he couldn't recollect what had happened when he fell. Yuuri said that he felt dizzy and nauseous too. The paramedics looked at each other with concerned expressions on their faces.

Yuuri was recommended to get x-rays taken of his neck just to make sure that he was okay. Yuuri started his 'no, no, everything's okay'-routine and seemed, to Victor at least, very ambivalent. Victor decided to make it easy for him.

* * *

The x-rays seemed okay, but according to the hospital's routine, a second traumatologist would check the images the next day. Yuuri was told to keep the neckbrace on until he'd been officially cleared. They couldn't rule out a possible minor concussion, so Yuuri was told to take it easy and not skate for at least a week. Not watch any TV or use computers. Yuuri seemed indifferent.

Victor rummaged around in Yuuri's backpack as the doctor closed the door behind them. He found Yuuri's skates, shoes and his running jacket. Victor couldn't remember bringing the bag along, nor packing Yuuri's things. It felt strange to him, not being in control. Taking out the shoes, he walked up to Yuuri who was sitting on the exam table.

Yuuri had his eyes locked on the floor. As Victor hunched down, their eyes met for just a second. _What's going on inside you, Yuuri?_ Victor, almost insensibly, trailed his hand along Yuuri's left leg after untying the laces of the sneakers, giving Yuuri's calf a small squeeze as if to tell him to put his foot in. Yuuri did so without a word. When Victor asked if he had tied the shoes too hard, Yuuri barely shook hos head.

Victor left his phone number as they prepared to leave. He was told that he would get the results of the second opinion of the x-ray results early the next day. He was happy to see that one of the nurses had been very accommodating during their visit and had arranged a taxi. Brought him some coffee. He gave her a peck on the cheek as thanks. He couldn't stand being photographed today.

* * *

Neither Yuuri nor Victor spoke in the taxi on the way home.

As they arrived in front of the high rise, Yuuri got out of the taxi before Victor.

"Yuuri! Wait," he called as he watched him disappear into the building. Victor excused himself to the driver and paid the fare, not really caring for the change.

He had a gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach. He knew that the afternoon would be hard for the both of them. He hurried to the entrance.

"Yuuri! Please, Yuuri... Wait!" Victor raised his voice when he saw Yuuri standing in front of the lift, his voice echoing as he did. Yuuri had pressed the button already.

_Why can't you look at me? What did I do?_

Victor tried to touch him. Tried to pull at his sweater a little, but Yuuri silently moved away. As they got inside the elevator, Victor felt desperate. He felt stupid for doing so, but as he cornered Yuuri, he pressed for the elevator to stop between floors. He got so close that he could feel Yuuri's exhales against his face. It seemed like he was agitated too.

Yuuri averted his gaze immidiately. The small gesture made Victor sick to his stomach. Tears were burning behind his eyelids. Again, he tried to touch him, but got no response. In desperation, he leaned in for a kiss and felt Yuuris hand on his cheek. Brusquely pushing him away.

_Don't push me away! Don't deny me!_

Victor broke down. He got overwhelmed and all the tension, all the emotions he'd been trying to keep inside for hours ripped through him. Clawed their way out. Leaving him tattered and torn on the inside.

"Yuuri, don't do this. Please, don't do this." He felt tears cascading down his face, but he refused to look away. Refused to dry them. Desperately wanting Yuuri to touch him. To do anything to him. "Don't make this a new Barcelona. Please, Yuuri."

Victor saw Yuuri frown, his eyes fixed on the floor. _Why does that provoke you?_ He grew angry. Grabbed him by the arm.

"What is this about? Tell me, Yuuri!"

Victor's heart fell apart when Yuuri pressed for the lift to continue its way upwards.

* * *

Yuuri wasn't angry. He felt betrayed. A feeling he couldn't carry inside. He knew that if he spoke, he would break. He was afraid to shatter, knowing that the pieces would never be able to fit properly again.

As the lift dinged, he silently walked out. Leaving Victor standing in that corner. He hated himself for doing it. He started to cry as he unlocked the door to the flat. **Their** flat. He leaned against the door as he closed it behind him. Trying to pull it together.

_Is this the way it's supposed to end? I want us, Victor, but you're set on leaving. I can't have you leave me. I'll die._

He took off his shoes, dropped his backpack and went straight for the bedroom. He tried to remember what Victor said about Makkachin at the hospital, but failed miserably. Since the dog wasn't there, he guessed that probably Yakov had picked him up. That was one less thing to worry about.

As he entered the bedroom, he got undressed. Fighting slightly to get his head out of his sweater. The neckbrace felt clumsy and made it a lot tougher. He got into bed and pulled the duvet up over his head. He curled up, making himself as small as possible. Because that's what he was in the bigger scheme of things. Insignificant.

_"Don't make this a new Barcelona", huh? Why would he say that?_

Yuuri couldn't fight it any longer. He cried until he fell asleep.

* * *

Victor tried to collect himself. He couldn't believe the last twenty-four hours. He retraced his steps since last night. Eating dinner. Yuuri falling asleep on top of him. Not getting into bed. Leaving for practice. Finding Yuuri on the floor. Being rejected. Being scared. Hating himself.

And now, sitting on the floor of a lift instead of going inside. Seeing Yuuri leave, it felt like the end of him.

Victor stood up, grabbing the handrail as he did for support. _Shall I go home? What will happen if I do? Will he end it?_

He wanted to go to him, out of concern. At the same time, every minute he wasn't home was a prolonging of his relationship. _No, I need... to go outside. Just for a second. Then, I'll go in. I'll... convince him. Convince him that I'm worthy of him. And it'll all be okay. It'll all be like yesterday._

Victor pressed the button for the bottom floor. The lift dinged. Before exiting, he gave himself a look in the mirror. He felt disgusted.

* * *

He had his routine. Ever since he was young, he'd done the same thing. He went outside. Took a walk. Cleared his head. Severing all ties with the people pleaser. Leaving that sad excuse of a human somewhere else.

_The people pleaser, huh?_

That part of him had taken over. Grown into a monster. A monster riding on his back, whipping him raw. Victor knew this, but he was afraid to face the fact. Face the monster.

He tried to remember when it had taken over. Somewhere between his late teens, early twenties. He'd been appreciated. Cheered on. Revered. He fed off it, initially. It filled a void within him that he couldn't sate. And when he started winning, that side of him exploded.

It was all about others. Pleasing others. Giving himself to them through his body, his movements. Being so occupied at always excelling, no matter the cost. Losing himself in the process. Losing what was important. Losing Life and Love.

But he'd gotten weary. Tired. The monster was slowly running out of whips and flails. But it still wouldn't get off.

Then, he met Yuuri.

_Yuuri!_

He'd found a new purpose. He'd found someone who filled that void. He didn't need anything else. Nor did he want to.

* * *

Victor unlocked the door. Before opening it, he took a deep breath. What would it mean to go inside? Were they supposed talk? Should they sleep on it? Could they sleep together? Were they still together?

Victor went inside. It was silent. He spotted Yuuri's shoes and backpack. He removed his own shoes and coat.

_I don't think I can do it today. I can't talk to him, not now._

He headed for the bedroom. Yuuri's clothes were scattered on the floor. He felt scared to approach the bed, but did it anyway.

Yuuri was asleep. His breathing was slow and heavy. The neckbrace looked horrid, a reminder of what had transpired earlier. Victor felt a sting inside when he noticed Yuuri holding on to his pillow. Hugging it.

_I should have been here to comfort you. I'm sorry._

Victor carefully stroked Yuuri's hair. Removed a strand from his forehead. He had missed touching him today.

_Thank you for falling asleep._

He sighed as he walked out of the bedroom.


	3. Chapter 3

Yuuri woke up in the wee hours of the night. He felt dizzy. Slightly sick to his stomach. The neck brace was chafing, it felt very uncomfortable to have it on.

_Victor's not here?_

Yuuri felt his heart clench. He struggled with the feeling of being disappointed and the realisation that he'd been a monster. A battle raged within him as he tried to see it from Victor's perspective, which he failed miserably.

Yuuri sat up. His head was spinning. He really, really needed to get to the bathroom. He was feeling sick. Using the wall as a support, he somehow managed to stagger into the bathroom. While on his knees, he put his head into the toilet bowl and threw up.

_Concussion, huh? My first skating injury took place off the ice. Talk about pathetic._

The room was gyrating. He threw up again. He was feeling as if he's been turned inside out and... What? Something warm against his back. Something that made him relax. The toilet flushed.

"Forgive me." Nothing but a whisper. A hot breath.

_Victor? He's here?_

Yuuri wasn't sure if he was awake, sleeping or passed out. He thought he felt his hand being held.

"I'll be right back. Relax, Yuuri."

* * *

Yuuri woke to Victor's voice. He was speaking Russian.

He opened his eyes, and tried his best to focus. Yuuri closed them again. He was afraid to get dizzy, and he felt tired. He pulled on the duvet. _Why is Victor speaking Russian?_

He felt Victor's hand on his shoulder. Something was shifting underneath him. Victor had stopped talking. He felt a slight tug around his neck, followed by the sound of velcro.

"You're officially free of this thing as of now, Yuuri. Can you lift your head a little?"

Victor supported Yuuri's head as he did what he was told. It felt good to get rid of the neck brace, Yuuri thought in his confused half asleep-half awake state.

"It's normal to get head aches and feel dizzy after stuff like this, apparently," Victor said, stroking his back. "Let's get you off the floor."

Yuuri opened his eyes. _Floor?_ He was indeed on the bathroom floor, with his head on a pillow, placed in Victor's lap.

"We slept here?" Yuuri had trouble finding his words in English. He felt slightly confused.

"You did. Come, think you can stand?"

Victor shifted underneath him and stood up. Yuuri felt him taking a hold of his arm, but he felt disoriented. His mouth tasted foul.

"Don't think I can."

"I'll carry you, no problem."

Yuuri felt Victor grabbing him, putting his arm around the back of Victor's neck before scooping him up. Effortlessly.

Yuuri leaned his head against Victor's. He felt so tired, barely noticing that he was being put into bed.

"I'm going to let you sleep, Yuuri. I'll be here, don't worry."

He dozed off to the sensation of kisses on his shoulder.

* * *

Victor spent most of his day in bed, only getting out to get Yuuri something to drink and eat. Occationally, he got a call which made him leave Yuuri's side in order to let him rest.

Victor's breakdown on the steps outside of the skating rink, together with a blurry picture taken from afar, had been vigourously retweeted from the account of a local magazine. Of course, it blew up the skating world too. 'Star skater in tears! Return to ice in jeopardy?!'

He felt really annoyed by this. Luckily, the article never mentioned Yuuri's accident. That would have been tougher to deal with in a lot of ways. Victor even left a silly statement on Twitter to tone down the whole thing, so he hoped that all the hubbub would die down not before long.

_'Whoah, tough day at the rink today! But it's all for you~! See you at Nationals!' Honestly._

Still... the matter between him and Yuuri was like an itch he couldn't scratch. He found solace in the fact that Yuuri needed rest, but dreaded when it was time to bring it up. They had to, though. It was obvious.

Victor decided to make something to eat, something easy enough and something that Yuuri could eat without having to get out of bed.

"Kasha, then".

As the semolina thickened, Victor couldn't stop his mind replaying yesterday's events. Hearing Yuuri's phone. Opening the door to the bathroom. Seeing him on the floor. Feeling panic choke him. It felt too real. As if the emotions lingered within him, still.

He brought out two bowls and poured the semolina. Instead of using jam, he found some blueberries and raspberries in the fridge which he added.

He put both of the bowls on the nightstand, next to his side of the bed. Yuuri was sleeping.

_He must have bumped his head good. Wonder if he didn't eat breakfast? Low blood sugar?_

Victor slid into bed, waking Yuuri in the gentlest way he knew. Trailing kisses over his back and shoulders.

_I'll never stop doing this, Yuuri. Never._

Yuuri moaned slightly and shifted around to his back.

_Not quite awake yet._

Victor traced Yuuri's collarbones with his fingers.

_I'll do whatever it takes. I swear it. I don't know what to do if I can't have this anymore._

Victor studied Yuuri's face. He had a bruise on his forehead now, where he'd hit the basin. Barely covered by the surgical tape. He looked at ease though, with his slightly tousled hair and separated lips. Victor really wanted to taste them. To forget about everything else and just... just have him.

As Victor covered Yuuri's lips with his, he melted when he understood that Yuuri kissed him back. It was a kiss with a meaning. It promised much.

* * *

"Mmph..."

Yuuri's body responded to Victor's surprising mewl. He shifted a little. Touching him would definitely lead to something else and Yuuri wasn't sure that he could handle it. Not right now.

Feeling Victor's hot exhales between the kisses, against his mouth and lips, made his head throb. He pulled back, feeling very unsatisfied and slightly nauseous.

"No. No more, my head is..."

He met Victor's eyes. Those lovely oceans of blue could only be surpassed by his heartfelt and earnest smile. Yuuri's breathing almost stopped as he was met by just that. The super nova smile of the real Victor.

"I'll go get you something."

Yuuri nodded slightly, savoring the feeling of Victor sliding his fingers across his jawline.

Victor was quick to return with a glass of water and painkillers. Yuuri downed them immediately.

"I made you something. It's easy on the stomach."

Yuuri shifted into a sitting position and was presented with the semolina porridge. They ate together, not really saying much. He appreciated Victor touching him every once in a while. It made it feel like how it was before.

"Thank you. I really mean it, Victor." Yuuri handed Victor the bowl.

"Don't mention it."

Yuuri felt guilt gnawing at his conscience. In an attempt to make the feeling subside, he crawled into Victor's arms. He felt thankful that Victor instinctively pulled him close, nuzzling up to him.

_You always meet me where I am. For that, I'll be in your debt forever._

* * *

_To: Yakov_

_I'm resting myself into shape :p Tomorrow, I promise! I'll pick Makka up afterwards. See you then!_

Victor had been getting some heat from Yakov since Yuuri's accident. Not surprising. He had a tendency to bark louder when he was worried. Him saying really inconsiderate things was also a part of the deal.

Victor scrolled through their message history. 'What kind of coach are you?!' 'You get back here tomorrow, he just bumped his head!' 'Are you coming today? It's not like YOU were in an accident!' 'Think about Nationals!' 'You're not here today either! You are a skater, not a nurse!' 'When will you pick up the dog?'

Victor smiled. He loved Yakov's tough love-take on things. It had molded him into who he was today, and although the old man seemed like a real nightmare to be around, he was a very caring coach. They had a wonderful relationship. And Victor loved to press his buttons.

It had been three days since Yuuri's fall. Victor knew that he probably should get back to the rink for practice, but he felt apprehensive.

_I really need to talk to Yuuri..._

The sensation of fingers playing over his stomach made him look to the side.

"Oh, you're awake?" He put away his phone on the nightstand. "Doing okay?"

Yuuri scooted closer, putting his head on his chest.

"Yes, I'm okay. Feels better overall today."

Victor absently fondled Yuuri's ear as they remained close, saying nothing for a while.

Victor's phone beeped. He reached out and grabbed it. A text message from the assistant of the director of orchestra. At the Mariinsky.

_From: Ms. Garshina_

_You are welcome to come to the Mariinsky today for an audio test between 13:00-14:00. Please reply if you intend to come._

Victor felt relieved. Getting the music to the short program really would take a load off his shoulders. Going there today would allow him to tweak the program to the music during his session tomorrow.

"Yuuri, I need to go out for a bit after lunch."

"Uh-huh. What are you going to do?"

"The music for the short program is done, they want me there for an audio test."

Victor wasn't sure, maybe it was all an imagination, but it seemed like Yuuri tensed up. Just for a fraction of a second.

"Oh..."

_He sounds... disappointed?_

"Can... can I come with?"

Victor hesitated. He didn't really feel like involving Yuuri in his own work, for a lot of reasons. Mainly because of his own high standards and will to tweak things into perfection before presentation, but the fact that they were competitors now added to the already complex equation. Also, Yuuri was a person who easily swayed and became affected by things around him. Not bringing him would prevent that.

He agreed, against his better judgment.

* * *

The Mariinsky was indeed an impressive establishment, catering to the needs of aficionados of the higher arts. Yuuri had never visited such a place before. He was blown away. It was like he was introduced to yet another part of Victor's life as a professional, one he could never imagined. _Adding another piece of the puzzle that is him._

Yuuri found himself to feel really out of place. Victor on the other hand, blended in perfectly. Immaculately dressed. He was that otherwordly, enthusiastic and passionate person Yuuri had admired since boyhood. The unattainable Victor. It felt different seeing that side of him in that parcticular setting.

They were instructed by the seemingly all-business Ms. Garshina to enter one of the chambers located on the fourth floor. Some members of the theatre's orchestra were tuning their instruments, preparing to perform. Victor shook hands with the conductor, and went over to sit next to Yuuri.

"This is going to be amazing," Victor remarked as he sat down, stroking Yuuri's thigh for a fraction of a second. Yuuri nodded, taken aback by Victor's smile. He was terrified of what he was going to experience.

The orchestra started.

The piece was sublime. Starting forcefully, almost demanding. Craving attention, pulling you in. Ever so slowly, the piece turned into a lament, a wish for something else. Yuuri found himself gripping the armrest of his chair.

_I wasn't imagining it. This is Victor's swan song._

Yuuri glanced at Victor from the corner of his eye. Victor looked absolutely spellbound.

As the piece ended, Victor was quick to get on his feet to shake hands with everyone on stage. Yuuri saw Victor turn to face him, looking ecstatic. He saw him mouth 'amazing'. Yuuri smiled and gave Victor a small nod.

_I need to keep it together._

* * *

He felt good. The music to the short program was perfect, and he couldn't help himself feeling like he was getting somewhere. Planning for a skating season involved constant reinvention, something Victor found challenging. Being driven by an extreme passion, he never settled for anything below what he'd already achieved. And it was getting harder and harder to top his old achievements.

"Let's stop here", Victor said as the pair passed a Teremok, just a short walk from their flat.

"Oh? Uh, sure."

"You are hungry, right? We can take it with us if you like."

"Sure..."

_He's off, for some reason._

"Yuuri? Are you feeling okay? We can always go home, so..."

"I'm fine!"

Yuuri's outburst made people notice them. Victor gave Yuuri a long look, but said nothing.

"Are you coming?" Victor pointed at the entrance.

Yuuri shook his head.

"I'll be there in a second!" Victor sounded cheery, but he was feeling disturbed by Yuuri's mood. Inside, he ordered some blinis and borscht. He tried hard not thinking about Yuuri as the cashier asked for a selfie.

* * *

"I'm picking up Makkachin tomorrow, if that's okay?" The two of them sat in the sofa, waiting for the borscht to cool.

"Of course! I can come with you if you want company?"

Victor felt puzzled. Yuuri's mood had changed again during the short walk home. Brighter, just like that.

_He's not well. This is not my piggy._

"Well... I'm picking him up after practice, so I can do it myself. You have four more days of relaxation, you know. You better make good use of it, I'm going to wear you out," Victor said whilst winking at Yuuri.

"Prac...tice, huh..."

Victor stopped blowing on his spoonful of soup. _What is going on with him?_

"Yuuri, listen..." _Let's see what happens. Maybe he'll tell me what's wrong, maybe he won't._ "Ever since you fell, you've been acting strange." Victor put the styrofoam cup on the floor. He leaned in, put a reassuring hand on Yuuri's thigh as he spoke silently into his ear. "Isn't it about time you told me what's going on?"

Victor could never have prepared himself for what was coming.


	4. Chapter 4

Yuuri felt it again. The lightheadedness. The churning in his stomach. The trembles on the inside. _'What's going on', you ask? Maybe I should ask you the same thing. You liar! You fucking liar!_

He felt Victor take his styrofoam cup out of his hands, heard the light sound it made as it was put on the floor. Thoughts were rushing in his mind, like a flock of birds in flight. Impossible to catch just one.

With his eyes fixed on his hands, Victor being inches away from his face, he tried his best. Tried his best to not make it awkward, tried his best to manage the situation. Tried his best to keep it together. He shut down.

It started small, at first. The excessive blinking to fight off the tears. The stiffened body position so that he wouldn't shake. The clenched jaw to despreately prevent any sound that wanted to escape his lips, stifle the cry that was ramming him from the inside.

Victor's forehead resting against his shoulder was all it took. He unraveled. First, the tears. The abundance of tears, like a dam that burst. Then, the shaking. The violent shaking that made him lose control. And then, finally, the cry. The cry of a desperate soul, loud and wordless but still comprehensible, it's meaning obvious. At least to him. _Stay close to me and never leave._

"Eh?"

He barely noticed Victor's surprised interjection. He just wanted to hold on, hold on to what was his.

"Yuu...!" Victor's voice got cut off when Yuuri threw himself at him, clawing off his glasses as he did. Almost tipping Victor over by the impact .

He dug his fingers into Victor's back. Pressed his face against his chest, screaming into the fabric of Victor's sweater.

It felt like the scene was neverending, like he'd been desperately been clinging on for life for at least an eternity. He felt Victor's body against him, felt one arm resting on his hunched back, one hand on the back of his head. Fingers in his hair. Pressing him closer. Trying to console. Trying to mend. Trying to soothe. But not saying anything.

Not that it mattered.

* * *

At first, he felt overwhelmed. Uncomfortable. Inadequate. But as the seconds turned to minutes, he felt at ease. It was enough, apparently. Just being there. Recieving his pain and filter it through himself.

He heard small sobs, muffled against his chest. Heavy breaths creating warm spots under his sweater, against his skin. Somehow, it felt like an honour that Yuuri chose to show him his pain. All those little broken parts within him that Victor still tried to understand but rarely got to see.

As it got more still, more quiet, Victor dared to speak again.

"Oh, Yuuri." He held him hard. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to say, but words kept on coming anyway. "When you're on the ice, there's nothing I don't understand. The way you move, the way you express yourself... there's nothing unclear. You speak volumes. But now," he sighed a little, "that you're here, in front of me, I... I really don't know what you're trying to say."

He sifted his fingers through Yuuri's hair.

"Can you help me?"

He heard something muffled in response.

"What?" He tried to move Yuuri away from him, he couldn't hear him when he spoke into his sweater. Yuuri held on tighter, but eventually, he loosened his grip. Turned his face a little to the side.

"Please don't leave. Victor, I beg of you, don't leave."

"Leave? What do you mean 'leave'?"

"I know," Yuuri sniffed, "that there are probably a million reasons for you to go, so... But... can't you find one reason, just one, to stay?"

Victor was dumbfounded. _Leave to go where? Doesn't he want me to go to practice tomorrow?_

"I... don't understand," Victor said sheepishly.

"I.. uh..." Yuuri inhaled, it sounded like a staccato. "The other day? You know? When I fell, I..."

"Mhm?" Victor put his hands underneath Yuuri's shirt, relishing the warmth that seeped into his fingers.

"Well, I... panicked. I got an anxiety attack and... Well, I was about to throw up so I, uh, ran for the bathroom but, you know I..."

Victor tightened his grip around Yuuri's back. He was under the impression that Yuuri's anxiety was connected to him performing, him putting too much pressure on himself to succeed. Just thinking too much. But practice isn't like performing in that regard. Victor tried to connect the dots in his mind, but came to the conclusion that he needed more in order to pull it off.

"So, why...?"

There was a long silence between them. Yuuri finally spoke.

"I... I saw you, Victor. On the ice. It became clear to me that... you're going."

"Going...?"

Victor got pushed away before he even realised it. Yuuri was looking straight at him, more angry than sad.

"You're going to quit! You're going to quit competitive skating! You're a liar, Victor! A... fucking liar!"

Victor felt as if he'd been struck by lightning. In all honesty, and Victor knew he had a hard time being honest with himself regarding this topic, he was tired. Tired of competing. Tired of reinventing. Tired of feeling like he was walking on a tightrope in regards to what his body could take. Tired of that side of him that pushed him constantly closer to the edge. Tired of the monster inside him who constantly deprived him of everything, everything but skating. But he never said it to anyone, not even to himself.

Victor recalled what he'd been doing once his practice was over and he waited for Yuuri. He'd been doing something, true, but as far as he remembered, he was ad-libbing for the free program. And the movements were... _Oh..._

Victor shook his head.

_Of course he understood. Oh, Yuuri..._

* * *

Victor's silence was proof enough, he thought. He lowered his head, feeling borderline furious.

"So," Yuuri continued, "all the things we promised each other, that's just nothing? Empty words? Words from the fickle and impulsive Victor Nikiforov, who does whatever he wants, when he wants it?!"

The continuous silence triggered Yuuri even more.

"You told me that I was selfish! In Barcelona! I thanked you and wanted to retire after the Grand Prix! It was you who wanted to continue, you called me selfish! Tell me Victor, what does that make you?! Now that you're going!"

"Yuuri... you don't need me on the ice in order to compete. You really don't." Victor sounded hurt.

Yuuri was about to speak again, but was silenced by Victor, putting up one hand as to stop him from responding.

"And before you go off again, listen. Listen carefully. What we have, it's more than a coach-student relationship. It's more than being fellow competitors. You know this. We laugh together, we cry together, we live together. Hell, we're sleeping together! Having sex together!"

The silence was deafening. Yuuri felt tense, like he didn't dare to even take a breath.

Victor continued, in a slightly lower voice. "I love you Yuuri. Stop being so pig-headed. There's a life after skating too, and our life, our love... It's just beginning, you know?"

Yuuri felt like he'd been slapped across the face. He felt dazed, tried to work through what he'd heard. He wasn't sure if it was good or bad. He was interrupted by Victor's hands on his face, his thumb tracing his lower lip.

Glancing to the side, Yuuri swallowed before he spoke. "But I do need you on the ice, Victor. I..."

Before Yuuri could finish the scentence, he was interrupted by warm lips against his.

"We'll continue this later but not today, okay," Victor said. "The borscht is already cold."

* * *

They didn't say much to each other, that evening.

After dinner, Yuuri fell asleep on the sofa whilst Victor was doing the dishes. Victor had a slight headache. He felt strangely dissatisfied about the discussion they had earlier. Sure, he had finally been let in on what had been on Yuuri's mind and the reason to his accident at the rink, but he felt as if he never got the chance to explain. Explain his side of things. Why it felt right to just do the upcoming season and really push himself, one last time. Why he needed to step down before... well, before he still could do it with pride and feel good about what he'd achieved.

Also, Yuuri's reaction had been strange. Victor couldn't wrap his head around why Yuuri went off and exploded like that. To Victor, last season had been Yuuri's rebirth. He had blossomed into a skater that would continue to be dangerous for years to come. And Yuuri did that with Victor on the sidelines. _I don't need to be on the ice for him to grow. I really don't._

Victor decided to push those thoughts out, for now at least. He wasn't really interested in hashing it out again soon. It had been tough for the both of them.

As Victor put the last plate on the dishrack, his thoughts drifted off to tomorrow's practice. _I need to tell Yakov. This is going to be our last season together._

He dried his hands and walked from the kitchen to the sofa. Yuuri was sleeping soundly. Victor put his hand on his shoulder and rocked it slightly. Yuuri groaned a little.

"Bed, Yuuri."

"Soon," he sighed, barely awake.

Victor bent down and kissed Yuuri on the temple.

"Might as well take a shower," he said to himself. "I'll be back for you."

* * *

Yuuri heard Victor walk into the bathroom. He knew that it would be best if he just got up, brushed his teeth and went to bed, but he felt so tired. Also, sleeping prevented his mind from remembering the argument that had taken place earlier. Yuuri knew that his mind often acted like a hamster wheel. Once it started, it was difficult to redirect the thoughts and they usually kept spinning until he was mentally worn out.

He sighed and stretched out his arms and legs, whimpering a little as he did. He decided to get up, that way he could get to bed faster and hopefully fall asleep without thinking too much.

He entered the bathroom. Victor was in the shower, shampooing his hair. Yuuri reached for his toothbrush and looked himself in the mirror. He looked just about what he had expected him to. Horrible. He didn't know what to think about today.

Victor's voice made him glance over in his direction.

"You're awake? I thought that I would find you asleep out there."

Victor sounded cheery. As always after something like this. Yuuri felt somewhat annoyed.

Yuuri put his toothbrush back into the glass where Victor's was placed. It looked better with the two of them together in that glass.

Yuuri turned around and placed his glasses on the bathroom cabinet. He took off his shirt and put it in the hamper. He unbuttoned his jeans, and as he did he heard Victor whistle appreciatively.

"You're joining me, Yuuri? I was just about done, but for you... I can stay here for a little bit longer."

Yuuri took off his socks and boxers and left them on the floor. He needed a diversion, and fast. He felt his mind kickstarting, he wanted those thoughts gone.

Victor moved slightly out of the way, letting Yuuri claim most of the space underneath the showerhead. Yuuri tilted his head back, feeling the water over his face. _If other things were just as easy to just... wash away._

He reached for the bottle of shampoo and squirted out a little in the palm of his hand. As he started to lather his hair, with his arms above his head, he felt Victor's body against his back. He ignored him. Victor wasn't discouraged, however, as he pressed himself closer. As if he thought that Yuuri didn't notice him.

Yuuri took his time and rinsed out the shampoo thoroughly. He turned around and pulled his fingers through his hair, knowing very well what kind of effect that would have on Victor. Maybe this was just the kind of diversion he needed.

"I love that look. No, I love how you look."

Yuuri inhaled as Victor came close. He felt him caress he jawline, and made no struggle when he tipped his chin up. They united in a kiss that made Yuuri forget about everything. It was just them now, the only thing that felt important.

Victor took hold of Yuuri's arms, forcing them above his head. Yuuri decided not to let Victor escape his eyes, and kept the eye contact. He felt aroused when he heard Victor hum a little, deep in his throat.

"Really, Yuuri?"

Victor came even closer, but Yuuri stood his ground. He tried to wiggle an arm out of Victor's grip, but it became stronger.

"You won't let me go, Victor?" Yuuri tried to kiss him, but was pushed back against the wall by Victor's hips.

Victor shook his head. "Tsk-tsk. What will you do, Yuuri?"

Yuuri lifted his head slightly, a small defiant gesture. Still not breaking the eye contact. "No," he responded. "Question is, what will you do, Victor? What will you do, now that you have me pinned against the wall like this?"

Yuuri soon found out what Victor had in mind, and it was marvellous. Just the diversion he craved.


	5. Chapter 5

As the silence spread itself across the rink, Yakov finally spoke.

"That looked... good, Vitya. I have some minor pointers, but that can wait. Come over here, boy."

Victor was pleased. It had been hard work, but the short program had, as of now, been greenlit by Yakov. He skated over to his coach, grabbed the water bottle and rested his elbows on the board of the rink. He took a sip between his breaths.

"How do you like the music?" Victor glanced at Yakov, pretending to untwist the lid of the bottle.

"It's a little dramatic, but sure, it suits the program well." There was a silence. "You did good, Vitya."

"Oh-hoh, Yakov! What's this, getting soft in your old age?"

"Shut it."

They stood silently beside each other. To Victor, the silence acted as the last haven before daring to take a leap into the unknown. He took a deep breath.

"Yakov... I'm retiring after this season. You're the first I've told. I'll announce it officially when this season is done."

There was a pause. After a while, Yakov spoke. "Vitya, remember when you first came to take skating lessons?"

"I do."

"I believe your father brought you. Said it would be good for you to have something to do when he and your mother were working. You were, what, six..."

"Five."

"...five years old. You had a will of your own, even back then." Yakov laughed. "And that mouth on you! Always talking back." Yakov seemed to have gotten lost in memories, but when Victor opened his mouth to say something, the coach resumed his nostalgic speech.

"You've always been a natural, Vitya. After only two-three years, I knew that you would become something special. You were interested. Passionate. Thorough. Unafraid. You knew what it would take to be at the very top, and you've always stepped up to the occation."

"Thank you, Yakov. You'll always be the only coach for me."

The old man laughed, and patted Victor on his back. "I know, Vitya. I know."

It was apparent that Yakov still was still thinking of old times. Victor decided to redirect the conversation.

"Have you ever felt trapped, Yakov?"

"Coaching you? All the time!"

Victor let that tongue-in-cheek remark slide.

"I think that this period of my life has been... Well, it's been great. It really has. I'd be an idiot to complain. But I... have found other things I would like to invest in now. Other things that I like more. Other things that I never got around to explore, that I recently understood that I both need and want. Sadly, they never found any room in my life before. Not until now... Am I crazy to walk away?"

"No. You're not. You're not, Vitya."

"Thanks. Competitive skating has been my life for so long, but..." Victor was feverishly searching for the right words. He'd never tasted them before, the flavour and texture of them felt unusual to him. "... it's been pricey, you know? On so many levels."

"Your body's saying no? Or is it still your motivation? I had a hunch that this was coming considering your break and all, last season. Didn't I tell you that it would be hard for you to come back?"

"It's not just that, Yakov. Indeed, it's getting harder every year, but I can stand it. Sure, my motivation was faltering a bit but... It's more what it has done to... me. On the inside, I guess."

They looked at each other, then back at the ice.

"Why haven't you told me this sooner," Yakov asked.

Victor sighed a little. He knew the answer, but he wasn't sure if he should tell Yakov or not. He decided, after some thought, that it was probably time.

"Well... I've never wanted to disappoint you."

Yakov sighed deeply. "The day you disappoint me, Vitya, still hasn't come. I doubt it never will."

Victor looked at his coach. That small sentence made Victor feel like he had made the right choice. Finally deciding it and acknowledging that he wanted it.

"I'll give it my all, this very last time. I won't go easy on them. Any of them. So, you better prepare your prima ballerina for what's to come. Prepare him good, because he's going to chase me for years to come."

In a rare moment between this coach and student, they embraced.

* * *

Yuuri woke up as soon as Victor got out of bed that morning. He had watched him dress, not making him know that he was indeed awake. The way Victor's muscles moved as he put on his clothes, almost made him reach out and pull him back into bed. But he stopped himself, watched him leave and heard him shut the door.

As soon as the door was being locked, his phone lit up. A message. From him.

_From: Victor_

_Don't think about yesterday. Only on how it ended. And it was great. xxx_

Yuuri wanted to do what Victor asked of him, but he couldn't. He wasn't sure what to think of the previous day. His feelings. Victor's feelings. Their argument. One thing he did know was that he was scared. Of a lot of things.

The idea of not having Victor on the ice brought out so many feelings within him. Feelings he couldn't stand, feelings he couldn't figure out. For Yuuri, it was impossible to know how to approach any of them. He tried, repeatedly, to understand why he felt rejected, insecure, unsure, betrayed. He ended up feeling tired, saddened, and decided to try to scatter the thoughts.

He picked up his phone.

_To: Victor_

_It was. I lo_

He stopped typing. _Why can't I say it? I can't even make myself write it! But I do. I know I do. And that is what scares me the most._

_To: Victor_

_It was. Please come home soon. /Y_

* * *

Victor was happy to pick up Makkachin, and it seemed like the dog was just as glad to meet its master.

"Thanks, Yakov. See you tomorrow!" Victor made a small wave with his hand before he turned around. "Come, Makkachin!"

Victor started to walk home from the rink, leaving Makkachin off the leash. The poodle plodded along, knowing very well that he was heading home.

Victor picked up his phone, and started to text as he walked. He'd noticed Yuuri's response as soon as his phone beeped that morning, but he hadn't been in the right state of mind to answer. He felt much better now.

_To: Yuu~ri!_

_On my way! I want to see you, and so does Makkachin! Training was good, Yakov=happy. xxx_

_To: Yuu~ri!_

_Doing ok, btw? xxx_

He kept the phone in his hand, ready to text back.

As Victor went across the Tuchkov bridge, Makkachin barked and took off. Victor, who had been in his own thoughts, looked up as the poodle darted across the bridge. A smile spread across Victor's face, instinctively. He put the phone back in his pocket.

"Yuuri!" _What a pleasant surprise._

Victor saw Yuuri at a distance, as he was crouching down to meet Makkachin. It made him feel warm inside. When they met, closer to Yuuri's side of the bridge, they embraced.

"Hey, you. Had a good day?"

"Mhm. Missed you at home, though..."

Victor kissed his forehead.

"Yuuri, let's take a walk." Victor put his arm around Yuuri's shoulders. As Yuuri leaned in a little, resting his head against him, Victor couldn't stop himself from smiling.

"You're awfully happy today." Yuuri looked up at him, showcasing a small smile, too.

"I'm just so glad to see you."

* * *

They weren't in a hurry. Walking alongside each other, making sure that they were always touching... Yuuri felt at ease. He'd missed this. He'd missed Victor.

As they were on their way home after aimlessly walking around town for quite some time, with Makkachin running some paces before them, Yuuri felt that he needed to say something. Something about the previous afternoon. He thought about how to make his thoughts into words, how he could make them understandable. Not only to Victor, but to himself as well.

His thoughts were interrupted by Victor as they turned the last corner leading up to their street.

"Let's go out tonight, Yuuri."

"Out? Sure, what do you have in mind?"

"Oh, I don't know," Victor responded. "Thought it would be nice. Anything you'd like to do?"

"We can always go out to eat? I mean, we don't have to do anything, really..." Yuuri looked at Victor. "Victor, anything with you is fine." He felt Victor's grip tighten around his waist.

"Then, it's settled. Dinner and maybe something else. We can decide once we head out, maybe?"

Yuuri nodded in response.

They approached their building. Yuuri waited for both Victor and Makkachin to enter at the bottom floor, holding the door as they passed through. Victor walked a few paces ahead, and pressed the button for the lift. As Yuuri approached them, Victor took a step back as to invite him to stand in front of him.

"A lot of things seem to happen in this lift. At least for us," Victor said softly in Yuuri's ear as the put his arms around him from behind.

Yuuri tried not to sigh. He remembered when he first got to St Petersburg. That was a memory he wanted to hold on to, feeling absolute desire and hunger. How they had feverishly kissed for the first time in a little more than a month, reluctantly letting the other go once the lift stopped at their floor. And then, there was the most recent, not so pleasant memory of him walking out on Victor, leaving him there with no explanation as to why things were they way they were.

"I know," Yuuri finally answered. He turned around, and put his arms around Victor. Not quite an embrace, but still very loving. Still very close. "I'm sorry."

Victor's hand on his cheek was calming, his eyes warm. Yuuri realised that Victor had a way of letting things go that seemed to healthy. That was something he really wanted to understand. Maybe even learn.

The lift dinged. Victor made no effort to let go.

"Victor?"

Yuuri felt Victor's lips on his. He closed his eyes. _I will always want you._

The feeling of Victor's hands on his back, pressing him closer into the kiss made his heart beat a little faster. Yuuri responded with putting his hands in Victor's hair, feeling his back arch a little as Victor pulled him closer. He heard the doors of the lift close behind him, but payed little attention to it.

"Press it again."

Victor's words against his mouth were commanding. Yuuri felt instantly turned on by this. He quickly let go of Victor with one hand, searching after the button. Not quite finding it. He felt the grip around him being loosened, his hand being put back around Victor's neck.

"Don't worry, I'll do it."

How they, and the dog, made it through the front door remained a mystery.


	6. Chapter 6

Starting with something as simple as a touch, escalating into a kiss and ending with reciprocity. The sensation of skin against skin. And the intention of making it last. That's what they were looking for, and trying vehemently to achieve.

Coats on the floor, just beside the door. Shoes strewn, in multiple rooms. Clothes, not willing to come off and the struggle and collaboration to make it so.

They had never been as determined, as needy, as intuitive as they were in that moment. Constantly wanting more, giving more.

As the sensation of the final touch waned, they looked into each other's eyes. Feeling sure, at least at that very moment, that nothing could ever divide them.

* * *

Yuuri was the first one to wake up. That had been... crazy. He felt his cheeks heat up. He barely remembered what had happened after they came through the door, being nothing but mouths and moans. It had been a display of raw lust, a feverish and almost unsatable need and understanding between them.

Yuuri got lost in his thoughts, trying hard to remember everything. Every touch, every look, every breath, every move... As he saw Makkachin on the floor just outside the bedroom, looking at him with a very reproachful stare, he felt mortified.

He averted his eyes. Feeling Victor's body against his back, his arms around him and the slow and steady puffs of warm air being exhaled onto his neck made him more at ease. He turned to rest on his back, trying his best not to wake Victor. Yuuri studied his sleeping face. The slightly parted lips, the silver hair, the expression of someone being utterly content even in his sleep... Victor looked divine.

_He's gorgeous. He could have anyone he wants and he's... with me?_

Yuuri noticed Victor's eyes play underneath his eyelids. His breathing slightly irregular. Soon enough, those radiant blue eyes stared back at him. Almost piercing him. A smile followed, then a soft kiss.

"Did I wake you?"

"Not at all." Victor's voice was hoarse, sleepy. He touched Yuuri's face. "Yuuri, that was..."

Yuuri was quick to interrupt him. He knew. "Yes," he said, "it was." He couldn't keep the eye contact, thinking about them being together. _Not like that. Not right now._

Victor apparently caught on, adding to Yuuri's abashment with a warm laugh.

Yuuri answered by hiding his face against Victor's chest.

"You have it in you, you know," Victor said softly. "That part of you... is also you, Yuuri. You have nothing to be ashamed of. I love it." Victor nuzzled his hair.

Yuuri felt his face ignite.

"So," Victor said as if to redirect the conversation, "want something to eat?"

Yuuri nodded in response. Still in hiding.

"Stay there, I'll fix something."

Yuuri felt the warmth disappear as Victor got out of bed.

"Victor?"

"Mhm?"

"If... if you're going to the kitchen to actually make something, at least put something on?"

Victor's laugh grew faint as he headed for the kitchen.

* * *

Victor popped into the bathroom on his way to the kitchen, just to humor Yuuri. He grabbed his bathrobe and put it on.

The flat looked messy, to Victor's enjoyment. It was messy for a good cause. A very good one. He couldn't help himself a small sound of appreciation left his lips.

He washed his hands and proceeded to look for something edible inside the fridge. As he decided on making a salad, there were quite a lot of veggies left and some chicken from the day before, his thoughts started to wander.

It had been a great day so far. The session with Yakov, cementing the short program and finally, finally breaking the news to him. The walk home, surprisingly being met up by Yuuri. The promise the kiss made while waiting for the lift and how it was followed through. Victor had to stop what he was doing, shredding carrots, when he thought about him and Yuuri. An indescribable feeling took over, making him warm inside. Weak at the knees.

At that very moment, Victor knew that he'd finally found what had been missing in his life for so long. That particular feeling he'd never felt before, towards someone else. And it had all started with meeting Yuuri.

"Oh? You're hungry too," Victor asked Makkachin as the poodle pawed his bowl, looking back at him with a very encouraging look. "You've given me so much," he whispered into the fur, as he sat down to give the dog a bountiful serving of kibble. "We have someone to share everything with now, Makka. I hope you're as happy as I am."

Victor resumed his cooking, picked out plates and silverware and returned to the bedroom. The sight of clothes all over made his heart skip a beat.

"Here, Yuuri," Victor said as the gave Yuuri his plate.

"Thank you!" Yuuri's face lit up.

Victor moved Yuuri's t-shirt that had gotten stuck underneath the duvet, as he returned to sit beside him.

"Know what, Yuuri? Before dinner tonight, we're going to buy you some clothes. I think we ripped this one."

"Huh?"

"Afraid so," Victor responded, having a hard time to stifle the smile that wanted to take over. He put down his plate on the bed. "See?" Victor held up the t-shirt. Sure enough, it had ripped from the neckline, half-way along the seam on the side.

Victor loved the fact that Yuuri, again, avoided eye contact. He leaned in and kissed him on the neck.

They both looked at each other, and fell into a roaring laugh.

* * *

"Humor me, Yuu~ri!"

Yuuri sighed. Victor had been trying to convince him for, as far as Yuuri was concerned, quite some time.

"It's not me, Victor. It'll make me feel out of place." Yuuri looked at his reflection. _Victor can dress like this and pull it off, but... not me!_

"If you're worried about the price, don't be. See it as your moving-in present from me." Victor started to talk to the clerk in Russian.

Yuuri pulled his fingers through his hair. _Why does he keep making choices for me that I'm really uncomfortable with? I want to have a say._

"Wear it tonight. You look amazing."

Yuuri felt Victor's hand touch the small of his back, ever so briefly.

"Fine," he sighed, his eyes locked on the floor. "Thank you."

Victor touched his face. Trailed his thumb just below his eye.

"Thank you, Yuuri."

As they exited the tailors, Victor was quick to put his arm around Yuuri's shoulders.

"Don't hold it against me, Yuuri. I really wanted it for you, you know? You look great tonight, which is a must concidering were we're going."

"Really? You've been planning this for some time, then?"

Victor squeezed his shoulder.

"Not at all!"

_Always the spur of the moment-Victor._ Yuuri kissed his hand.

* * *

If Yuuri had felt uncomfortable with his new wardrobe, it was nothing in comparison to the feeling he got as he entered the Palkin.

"Great, huh?" Victor beamed. "I'm so happy to take you to a place like this. It's probably one of the top five places to eat in St Petersburg."

Shortly after they were greeted by the staff, they were shown into the main hall. Yuuri couldn't stop looking at the interior with big eyes. It was exquisite. Thick and heavy drapes framed the tall windows, chandeliers hung from the cieling and mosaic frescoes donned the walls. It all came together, creating an unique ambience.

They were handed the menues after being assigned to their seats.

"Lovely place, don't you think? It's over 200 years old," Victor said as the waiter walked away with their drink order.

"It's amazing." Yuuri tried to find words. Deep inside, he felt that the whole evening had been quite... lavish.

"Yuuri? Let me do this for you tonight, please? I want to." Victor's eyes were sincere. "When we both are practising again, there won't be time for this, so..."

Yuuri reached out and held Victor's hand. He suddenly felt stupid.

"Forgive me, Victor. Thank you."

* * *

A lovely meal. Some wine. Loosened neckties, loosened thoughts. The evening was perfect.

As they exited the Palkin, both in extremely high spirits, Yuuri felt a slight buzz. He really couldn't cope with alcohol. Victor had been drinking a bit more than him, but seemed more sober.

"I need to hold on to you a little," Yuuri said to Victor, trying to steady himself. Victor responded by holding his waist, cooing slightly.

"Too much? You feel done for the night?"

"No," Yuuri answered. "Let's walk for a bit."

The pair turned towards the Anichkov bridge, having a hard time to keep off each other. Stopping frequently to kiss.

"Let's go in here!" Victor exclaimed once they passed the bridge, steering Yuuri as he turned the corner.

"A club? Really, Victor?" Yuuri laughed at Victor's blatant excitement.

"It'll be fun! Latin dance night! I already know you can do the Paso, Yuuri!"

_I can?_

They entered, bumping into people on their way out. A band was playing salsa, the floor was filled with couples fighting for room in the cramped space.

Yuuri felt warm inside, seeing Victor's eyes light up as they went further in to grab a seat.

"Drinks, Yuuri?"

"Just the one, then," Yuuri answered, being well-aware that his inhibitions still worked perfectly fine. He wanted it to stay that way.

As always, Victor's mere presence made people flock around him as he stood and waited at the bar. Yuuri realised that he would probably have felt a sting of jealousy if it wasn't for the alcohol. Or maybe it was because of the time they had spent together earlier? He felt confident now, which was surprising to him. He even let Victor go up on the floor by himself, without feeling flustered.

The band started to play a tango.

Yuuri watched Victor, leading a very cute girl across the floor. He was kind with her, taking his time and being patient when the dance lacked flow. Yuuri felt a flutter inside, seeing Victor being all smiles. Being that approachable person that easily bonded with people, no matter what they could possibly bring to the table. But somewhere, Yuuri knew that the flutter originated in him knowing that Victor only had eyes for him. Shooting glances across the floor that spoke louder than words.

The band took a break, and Victor became occupied with a small following of women crowding around him. He saw Victor motion in his direction, feeling slightly curious about the conversation he was in. Victor walked up to him with his female following in tow.

"Yuuri!" The girls made a very appreciative noise when they heard his name. "They find it amusing that you have a Russian name," Victor translated. "Feel like showing the girls how it's done?"

"Eh? Me?"

"Absolutely. I know you know the Paso, Yuuri. How about Tango? Argentine Tango?"

Yuuri felt put on the spot, he wasn't sure he wanted to dance with someone just for the sake of it. Again, his inhibitions were still working the way they should. But yes, he knew some Tango.

It was like Victor could read his mind. As he leaned forward, Yuuri understood that he would definitely regret saying no.

"You're going to dance with me." Victor's voice was like a caress. Close and warm. With the intention of leading to something else.

Yuuri accepted, without hesitation. Finishing his drink, he took off his jacket, loosened his tie and opened the cuffs of his shirt as he followed Victor to the floor.

Victor spoke to the band, and came up to Yuuri. Yuuri's heart started to beat faster, almost automatically.

"Ready?" Victor's voice was a whisper in his ear. "I'll lead. You show them what true passion looks like. Make them jealous. Make them desperately want to be you. Tease me."

* * *

As the music started, they got lost in each other. Barely hearing anything else than their own breathing, not paying attention to anything or anyone else than themselves.

They really showed everyone what true passion was, that night.


	7. Chapter 7

They stumbled in late. Victor went out with Makkachin without thinking twice, Yuuri went straight for the bathroom.

_What an amazing day._ Yuuri felt giddy, he couldn't stop smiling as he brushed his teeth. _If this is what it means to be with Victor, then I never want it to stop._

Once he was done brushing his teeth, he undressed and got into the shower. He heard Victor come through the door, and Makkachin was quick to dart to the bedroom on his mission to get as much space as he possibly could of the bed.

Yuuri heard Victor's footsteps as he walked past the kitchen, and into the bathroom.

"I had a great time today." Victor's voice sounded slightly distorted once he started to brush his teeth, standing just outside the shower.

Yuuri turned off the water and gave Victor a small kiss on the side of the mouth, trying to avoid the toothpaste. "Me too. Hand me the towel, please?"

Yuuri stood silently and watched as Victor went to the basin and spat out the toothpaste before reaching for the towel.

"Pay the toll, first," Victor said playfully, not giving the towel to Yuuri before he got a deeper kiss. Yuuri was happy to oblige.

"You're showering too?"

Victor nodded. "Go ahead, I'll be with you soon. Hope you guys save me some room."

* * *

The alarm went off way too early, as far as Victor was concerned. He felt in his entire body that practice today would be a struggle. _First time for everything._

He got out of bed and prepared his spihon brewer before taking Makkachin out for a walk, dressed in a simple track suit underneath his coat. He had a feeling that Yuuri would sleep for quite some time.

The morning air was cool and crisp. As Victor and Makkachin took the ordinary route they always did in the morning, Victor decided that today would be the day. He was going to tell Yuuri about what he'd decided for himself and his career. Considering Yuuri's heated reaction before, he realised that no matter how prepared he thought they were, there would never be a good time to bring it up. Victor knew that he was ready to try, and that he would do everything he possibly could to help Yuuri accept it.

He felt nervous, though. He remembered how upset Yuuri had become when he pressed him a little. He wanted to spare them both the agony of another emotional meltdown, but he really didn't know how he could possibly pull it off.

_I'll have to think of something. I owe it to him, and he needs to hear it before he starts his training again._

"Makka, come! Let's go back!" The poodle trotted up to Victor, wagging its tail and looking at him in a begging way. Victor felt around in his coat pocket, and found a small treat that he offered to the dog. He patted Makkachin on the head as they entered the building, ready to go back up.

The lift dinged right away. Victor was quick to get out once the lift reached his floor, and opened the front door as silently as he possibly could. Makkachin headed for the bedroom right away to sleep some more.

He poured himself a cup of coffee, and drank it solemnly whilst making some kasha. He ate the porridge standing.

The warmth of Yuuri's hands underneath his t-shirt startled him. He'd been too occupied trying to find a way to approach Yuuri with his decision, that he never heard him coming. He felt Yuuri resting his head on his back, without saying anything.

_Don't pull him down now. You don't have the time to start anything._

"Morning, Yuuri. Feeling okay?" Victor turned around so Yuuri ended up in his arms instead.

"Mhm..."

"Why are you up? I've already walked Makkachin so you can sleep a while longer." He kissed him on his forehead and pulled him a bit closer.

"I don't know. I heard you so I just... got up, I guess." Yuuri shuddered a bit.

Victor decided to tread very lightly. "I'm off soon, last practice with Yakov for the week. I'll probably be home around noon. You seem cold, can I tuck you in?"

Yuuri nodded.

The pair of them walked back to the bedroom, Victor couldn't keep himself from touching Yuuri's naked back. As Yuuri got into bed, Victor sat down next to him, trailing kisses on his chest when he finally settled.

"Thank you for yesterday, Yuuri," he said between the kisses. "I hope you had a good time too."

Yuuri responded by touching his face, keeping his hand against Victor's cheek. Victor kissed his fingers and then leaned in to kiss his lips. They tasted sweet.

"I'll be home before you know it. Text me if you want to, okay?"

"I will," Yuuri responded sleepily.

"I love you, Yuuri," Victor said as he was standing up. "See you later."

Yuuri made a barely audible noise in response, already half asleep.

* * *

_To: Viktor_

_Call me when you're done at the rink! I'm making lunch! /Y_

Yuuri put his phone away. He'd been out for a couple of hours, trying to find everything he needed had proved to be slightly more difficult than he had expected.

"I wish you could come and translate for me when I'm going somewhere, Makkachin." The poodle raised a tired eyebrow from his spot on the sofa. "Your Russian is probably better than mine."

Yuuri sat down next to the dog and hugged him. Memories of Vicchan made themselves known, making Yuuri tear up a little. He sighed. "Thanks for the talk, Makkachin."

Yuuri returned to the kitchen and started preparing the ingredients. He was set on making some kind of bento, with the hopes of mixing Japanese and Russian cuisine into something that was actually edible. Yuuri had found the Russian kitchen to be filled with grain-based foods and root vegetables, very different from what he was used to eat when living in Japan.

After cooking for an hour or so, his phone started to ring.

"Victor? Hi! Yes, everything's okay. Uh-huh. Half an hour? Good, perfect timing. Me? No, I don't think so. Okay, see you soon! Bye!"

He smiled as he put his phone away. He'd been longing for Victor to come home.

* * *

Victor put his hands in his pockets, together with his phone.

Practice had been okay, despite a late night and some drinking. Yakov had been a bit more demanding than usual. Victor figured that it had to do with him letting Yakov in on the news of his approaching retirement. The short program felt solid, and he'd spent some time on the free as well. Trying to stitch together the things that Yuuri saw. _Three more weeks to Nationals. The beginning of the... no, not the end. The beginning of something new._

Victor shuddered slightly. He couldn't wait to get home but at the same time, knowing what he had to do once he got there made him... yes, he felt anxious. He didn't want to upset Yuuri, but maybe it was inevitable? _What do I do if Yuuri can't cope with this? Can I cope with it?_

As Victor walked across the bridge, it came to him. He knew how he would break it to Yuuri.

* * *

"Yuuri! I'm home!"

The sound of his bare feet against the floor, running. The impact of him throwing himself around his neck. The laughs. The kiss. Victor faltered in his resolve, if only for a second.

"If this is what it means to live with you, then I want to be greeted like this every day." He put his arms around Yuuri. _Please, let this go well._

"So," Victor continued as Yuuri let him go, "you've been busy?"

"Well, after yesterday, I wanted to do something for you. Here, let me help." Yuuri took Victor's coat and hung it next to his. "I think it'll be good. I hope so, at least."

Victor was taken by the hand and led to the kitchen.

"Wow, amazing! Yuuri, really now... When you said lunch I had something simpler in mind. This..."

"You haven't tasted it yet. It might be horrible."

Victor pulled Yuuri close, and gave him a deep kiss. The kind that made them both gasp for air. He rested his forehead against Yuuri's.

"Nothing you do can ever be horrible, Yuuri."

Yuuri laughed and pulled away. "You flatterer. Please, sit."

* * *

Victor had his head on Yuuri's chest. Yuuri played with his hair. They were bundled up on the sofa, enjoying each other's company.

"I can hear your heart beat," Victor whispered. "It's calming."

Yuuri said nothing, sifting his fingers through Victor's hair again and again.

"Yuuri? Can I talk to you about something?" _I'm going to do it now._

"Sure." Yuuri sounded relaxed. Sleepy.

"I... uh, you know, Makkachin's an old dog, right?"

"Mhm?"

"I... I got him when I was sixteen. The same year I won my first JWC."

"I know, Victor."

"But... I... This is hard, Yuuri. I'm letting you know things about me that no one knows, so listen carefully, okay?"

He felt Yuuri tense up for a second. He stopped playing with his hair.

Victor resumed. "When I turned sixteen, a lot of things happened in my life. Winning the JWC was one of those things, but one can say that it paved the road for the life that followed. I... got Makka after the JWC and... Well, I was lonely." _This hurts!_

Yuuri shifted below him, trying to sit up. Victor put some weight on his elbows to let Yuuri do so. Escape from underneath him.

"That loneliness was building up. It started way before, but when I was sixteen it became obvious. When I won the JWC, I had hoped that it would fix things. But it didn't. So I gave up. Devoted myself to skating even more."

"You gave up?"

"Yeah... my parents and I, we..." He looked up at Yuuri. He couldn't make out his expression. "We haven't seen eye to eye for some time. Back then, they were wrapped up in their work. Maybe they still are. They are academics, you see. Career driven."

Yuuri's hand in his hair again. It gave him the strength to continue. He looked away.

"I had hoped that they would see me, once I won the JWC. I did it all for them, in the beginning, but... I was lonely. I lived by my own at fifteen, my life consisted of going to school and going to the rink. Trying to prove myself. Pleasing them." Victor sighed.

"Then, I became a senior. I wanted to show them what I was made of. I wanted them to see me. Not so much my parents anymore, but everyone else. My competitors. The audience. Yakov. The world. It became my fuel. It became my everything. I wanted to give them everything I didn't have. I wanted them to feel good. Be enchanted. Appreciated. All of this, I did through my skating. And then, I started winning. I became intoxicated at first. The cheers, the attention... I became desperate to keep that momentum. Always surprising them, leaving them asking for more. Even though I struggled, felt sick, got hurt... I still got to the rink. Pushed myself. Harder and harder. More and more. Constantly trying to up anything I did before. But in the end, when I got home..."

"You... were lonely."

Victor knew without looking at Yuuri that he cried. He put his hand on Yuuri's knee. He wasn't sure if it was to comfort Yuuri or himself.

"Right. Lonely. And... empty. It's been like this for twenty years, Yuuri. But, you know what? It changed. It really did." Victor sat up, trying hard to brace himself before looking at Yuuri. "And do you know why?" He found Yuuri's eyes, making sure that they would look each other when he finally got to the point of the nonsensical speech he'd been trying to prepare on his way home from the rink. The speech that would make him understand.

Yuuri shook his head, teary eyed. Being absolutely wonderful. His beloved Yuuri.

"I found you".


	8. Chapter 8

Yuuri blinked. Trying to get rid of the tears. _What is he telling me? He's been suffering all this time? Until he... met me?_

His voice, thick with emotion, didn't sound anything like him when he spoke. "Victor...? All the photos, all the medals... You weren't happy?"

"No, Yuuri. I haven't been. Not for a long time."

"But..." Yuuri could barely make a sound, his voice trembling so much. "Oh... so that's... When I came here, when you went outside?" He wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater, remembering when he first came to St Petersburg. Seeing the medals on the wall of Victor's bedroom. The photos. The smile that wasn't him. The confrontation and Victor's strange remark. It all came together.

"Mhm." Victor nodded slightly. "You saw... you saw _me_. And that made me... Yes, it made me angry, okay? Not with you, never with you, Yuuri. But I'm mad at myself. For letting it deprive me! I have... a monster on my back, it controls me and I can't take it anymore. It has told me to forsake everything, making me more and more empty. More lonely. Because there wasn't any room left for anything else."

"So," Yuuri said whilst fighting to take control over his voice, "you've only skated for others? All this time? Not enjoying anything?"

Yuuri was happy to feel Victor holding his hands. He wanted to be grounded. It felt like everything he thought of Victor as a skater had been a lifelong charade. The successes meant nothing and the smiles was just for show. The interviews in magazines never portrayed the real Victor. The Victor he had gotten close to. The Victor he wanted to share everything with.

"I haven't been important in my own life for a long time, Yuuri. Not until I met you. You don't remember the banquet, you know the one we talked about in Barcelona, but... I had such a good time with you. You were so drunk, barely dressed and asked me to be your coach. I felt... reborn! My void was filled, if only for that night."

Victor's eyes were tearing up. But he smiled. That super nova smile that Yuuri knew was one hundred percent him. The real Victor.

Without thinking, just acting purely on instinct, they fell into each other's arms. Filled with emotion, making each other's shoulders wet from tears.

"That's when I knew," Victor continued, sobbing between the words he spoke into Yuuri's ear, "when I saw you do my routine, that you were my anchor. You were supposed to save me. And you did! You did, Yuuri! I wasn't sure at first what would happen when I came to Japan, but... You gave me back my Life and my Love and I know now that I can never be without you. I'll be lost without you!"

Victor's shoulders shook as he tried to regain control, his face buried in Yuuri's shoulder.

"I've found someone who wants me to stay true to myself, and I'm sorry if I've fooled you! I've fooled everyone. Being true to oneself isn't that easy. Especially when you're lost. Especially when others think you're someone else. Especially when you're constantly feeding them. Appeasing them. Cementing their view on who you are."

Yuuri felt Victor's grip around him tighten. _What is he saying?_

"Therefore, Yuuri... I want you to accept my decision. I don't want to compete anymore, not after this season. But believe me when I say this, I will stand by you. Not on the ice as a competitor, but as your coach. As your lover. As your husband! As myself! I'll give you everything, anything! But please... accept my decision and let me go when this season is over."

* * *

Yuuri swallowed. Steadied himself. Desperately trying to understand what Victor had said, what it meant. _But he wants to quit? But he wants to stay? With me?_ Yuuri took a deep breath. Prepared himself for making a revelation of his own.

"Thank you, Victor. For telling me this. For letting me in. I... I can't even begin to understand... I mean, I don't understand. No, I don't understand, Victor!"

Victor's warm and wet exhales against his cheek became calmer. His question was barely audible.

"What, Yuuri? What is it you don't understand?"

"I... have always chased you! Ever since I was... I remember being twelve, seeing you on TV, you won the JWC. I've been fuelled too! By you! I wanted to be just as good as you, stand on the same ice as you!" Yuuri's voice became a whisper. "I even named my dog after you. Vicchan. 'Victor'. When you came to Hasetsu my... my room was filled with posters of you. I had to rip them down, with you standing outside my door!"

Yuuri felt Victor flinch as he tried to find a stronger voice. He found it hard.

"I've always seen you as something unattainable. You... you've been like a god to me, Victor. You still are. And I..." Yuuri sighed. "...and I'm afraid what happens to me if I can't chase you. I want to chase you! I need to chase you! I want you to want me to chase you!"

He felt Victor's hand on the back of his head. Pushing him closer, tangling his fingers into his hair. A silent affirmation that his feelings were indeed valid. Important.

"I was prepared to let you go, Victor. In Barcelona. I know you don't understand it yourself, but I'm killing you! Every moment you're off the ice, coaching me, I'm killing you! And now," Yuuri sobbed, "you're telling me that you... you don't want it anymore. To compete? After everything I went through with trying to decide that letting you go was the best for you?"

"Can't you be happy to keep me to yourself? You're worth it! Yes, you're worth having me to yourself! I want you to want me in any way you can, Yuuri!"

Victor broke free from their embrace, but still holding on to Yuuri's shoulders. "Even if my competitive side is gone, I'll motivate you! I'll make you... No, I want you... to be you! You don't have to impress me or chase me, you've already done that and so much more. So much more. You made me feel alive again."

Victor paused briefly. When he resumed, his tone was more levelled. "You broke my world record, dammit. People are going to chase you, Yuuri! Not me! Why can't you see that?"

Victor's lips felt warm and wet against his. His kiss tasted salty from their tears.

"But... how will it even work, Victor? How can you motivate me if..."

"...if I can't motivate myself? Good question. For starters," Victor pulled his fingers through his hair, "I want you to know that the decision of returning is... for you, Yuuri. I'm doing this for you and your motivation. I can handle one more season. At first, I got scared, I admit that. That's why I returned to Yakov with my tail between my legs. If I was going to lose you, then..." Victor shook his head. "Never mind. Also, I'll make you hate me for returning this season. You'll be in my shadow, I'm taking back what you stole from me last season. I won't go easy on you."

The sound of Victor's voice was... cheeky. It came as an absolute surprise to Yuuri, and by the look on Victor's face, he felt surprised too.

"Secondly," Victor said, leaning in until he was but an eyelash away from Yuuri's face, "we have a promise to keep to each other." Victor straightened himself and pointed to his right hand, his ring catching the light. "This is _my_ motivation, Yuuri. I'll make you keep that promise."

* * *

The both of them smiled. Dried each other's tears. Embraced without having a thought of ever letting go. Sustained by a new understanding for each other. And it felt good. It felt safe. It felt possible.

"I promise you, everything will be okay."

"Yes. Now, I know it will. I... I love you, Victor."

**~the end~**


End file.
